Vulpecula V-VIII
by jeri
Summary: The second set of the Vulpecula series. MSR/M and Babyfic.


TITLE: Vulpecula V-VIII  
AUTHOR: jeri  
E-MAIL: ggal1116@yahoo.com OR agentjeri@thexfiles.com  
WEBSITE: http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/index/html  
RATING: PG  
CATEGORY: SRA, S-POV  
KEYWORDS: MSR/M, MulderAngst, ScullyAngst, Babyfic  
SPOILERS: Requiem  
ARCHIVE: Sure, just drop me a line!  
STARTED: June 10, 2000  
FINISHED: June 23, 2000  
CONTAINS: Promises, Promises; The Immortal; Domestication;   
and Honeymoon on the AD.  
  
**DISCLAIMER: The names you recognize belong to   
CC and his crew. Veronica Durant and Alexis are   
mine, so please don't use them without consulting   
me first. Enjoy!  
  
^*^*^  
V - Promises, Promises  
[[Less than a week after Mulder's return, he's   
forced to face the family]]  
  
May 28, 2001  
6:03 a.m.  
  
It is with much pleasure that I ignore my son's   
cries and roll over in bed. No need to get up yet:   
Daddy can change that diaper!  
  
Mulder hasn't even been home for a week yet --   
it's a week tomorrow -- but he's already turned   
into a SuperDaddy! whenever Adam requires assistance.   
He's offered several times to work the breast pump   
himself so he can share in the 2 a.m. feedings.   
Since we have yet to be alone, it's the most intimate   
we've been.  
  
On that topic, Mulder is really torn. I can see in   
his eyes just how much he wants me, and I know I   
reflect that desire. But while I'm used to letting   
Mom take Adam during the day while I work, Mulder   
is still getting to know his baby boy. He cherishes   
every moment he gets with Adam, and there's no way   
I can deny him those moments.   
  
So, I wait it out. I've waited a whole year, and   
except for our two months before he was abducted,   
eight whole years before that. I can hold out for   
another week or two. I hope it's not two.  
  
"Hey buddy! Good morning! You got a stinky diaper?   
Huh, do ya? I think you... phew! Oh yeah, you do!   
Let's clean that mess up, whaddya say?"  
  
I smile at Mulder's babbling. The first day or two   
that was his biggest problem. He just didn't know   
how to talk to a five-month-old baby. But when I   
came home from work on Thursday, he had it down   
pat. When you're all alone with a baby, you quickly   
learn how to carry a conversation.  
  
"Geeze Adam, what did you eat last night? You sneak   
out for a 4 a.m. snack? 'Cause that bottle at two-  
thirty shouldn't have caused that much toxic waste."  
  
I listen to Adam coo in response to his father's   
gentle voice. I think Adam must already have   
figured out the difference between Mommy and Daddy,   
because he never stops crying for me in the morning   
until he's fed. With Mulder he calms down as soon   
as his butt's wiped up. And as soon as I sit up,   
he starts crying for his liquid breakfast.  
  
I feel the bed next to me sag as Mulder settles   
down behind me, and I know he's put Adam between   
us. Carefully, I roll over to say good morning.  
  
"Morning baby," I murmur to Adam, placing a kiss   
on his forehead.  
  
"Morning pookie," Mulder responds. I can hear the   
smirk in his voice.  
  
"Not you. I was talking to our son." I smile despite   
myself, leaning over to give him a chaste, but   
meaningful, kiss on his lips.  
  
"So was I," he retorts. "To you I say, 'Good   
morning, beautiful.'" He takes the hand that has   
been stroking Adam's cheeks and raises it to his   
lips, kissing each knuckle in turn. It's times   
like this when I wish we'd had a bit more time   
together before having a baby. Oh well, beggars   
can't be choosers.  
  
"You won't be saying that when I tell you what we   
have to do today," I admit, wondering if he remembers.  
  
He groans and throws his head back. "Scully..."   
Ah. He remembers.  
  
"Mulder, I told you what Billy said when I told   
them, didn't I?" Mulder frowns and shakes his head.   
"No? Oh, I thought I did. Well, basically..." I'm   
cut off by a hungry boy who's suddenly realized   
that the food mobile is open for business. I gather   
Adam up in my arms and he attaches himself to my   
breast. I look back at Mulder and realize that   
he's jealous of his son. "Mulder, about Billy."   
He brings his focus from my breast to my face.  
  
"He's gonna kill me," he whines.  
  
"No, he's not. When I told them all about Adam and   
Adam's father, Billy just accepted it. He said   
that, the next time he saw you, he was just going   
to warn you that you better take care of us. I'm   
pretty sure Tara talked some sense into him."  
  
Mulder scootches closer to me. "I always did like   
your sister-in-law," he mumbled.  
  
I grimace. "Well, you may like Tara, but I don't   
think you'll be too fond of Saundra, Charlie's   
wife. Neither Tara nor I can stand her, but everyone   
else thinks she's just peachy. She's a stereotypical   
rich Southern Belle who knows everything about   
everyone and isn't afraid to talk about any of it."  
  
I can hear the eye-roll in Mulder's voice. "Oh   
goody. Just my type. Sounds like the kids up at   
the Vineyard. The kind that avoided me like the   
plague after Sam was taken."  
  
"Oh yeah, she'll hate you. You're just the kind   
of guy she used to go for, and the kind who   
invariably dumped her for someone worthy of their   
time."  
  
"So, how'd Charlie end up with her?"  
  
I shrug. "Right place, right time of month, I guess."   
Mulder looks at me oddly, so I explain, "Shotgun   
wedding. Remember that when she starts whispering   
about our illegitimate child. Jason was only   
legitimate by two weeks."  
  
Mulder's eyes look away from me, and I realize   
that I may have insinuated something that wasn't   
meant to come up in casual conversation yet.  
  
"Mulder," I sigh. Before I continue, I pull Adam   
off my breast and switch sides. "Look, you just   
got back last Tuesday. No one is going to expect   
us to have even discussed the subject of marriage   
yet, okay? And even if they do bring it up, it   
doesn't matter. What matters is that you're here   
with Adam and me."  
  
He sits up, a smile on his face. "I love you," he   
declares, and though I've heard it many times   
these last six days, I still feel a tingle down   
my spine at the words. "I love you, Scully, and   
as soon as everything is back to normal between   
us, I am going to want to marry you. Is that okay?"  
  
I smile. "That's great." I lean forward and kiss   
him. "I love you, too."  
  
^*^  
  
10:31 a.m.  
  
To my surprise, we're not the first group to arrive.   
I can hear Matty's squeals from the car, and I bet   
that if the windows were up, I'd still hear him.  
  
"God, he's huge!" Mulder mutters as he watches   
Matty careen around the corner of the house to   
greet us. I just nod, realizing that Mulder hasn't   
seen my nephew since we stopped by their house in   
San Diego just over two years ago.  
  
"He's three now. I last saw him over Labor Day,   
and he's even bigger now. Billy's gonna end up   
with a giant on his hands." I say this as I open   
the door and step out into the street. I then open   
the back door to pull out the car seat that doubles   
as a baby carrier. Mulder grabs the diaper bag   
that's on the other side, and we slam the doors   
in unison.  
  
"Auntie Dee, hi hi hi!" He stops abruptly as he   
sees Mulder step behind me, placing his hand at   
the small of my back. Or maybe he sees Adam in the   
carrier. It's probably a combination of them both   
that causes Matty's wariness.  
  
"Hi Matty," I say with a smile. "How are you?"  
  
"Okay," he says shyly, then points to Mulder.   
"Who's that?"  
  
"You remember Mulder, don't you? He's my, um,   
friend." I stumble over my words, trying to find   
a description of what Mulder is that a three-year-  
old can understand. I can tell what Matty's next   
question will be, so I put down the carrier so he   
can see his cousin better. "And this is your cousin   
Adam."  
  
Matty's face lights up. "He's a baby," he whispers,   
his voice full of awe. "Just like Cory next door.   
Since Cory is a baby, Wendy is his big sister.   
Does Adam have a big sister?"  
  
The thought of Emily leaps to the front of my mind,   
but there's no way Matty can understand that. "Nope.   
Just Adam. Hey, let's go out back and find your Mom   
and Dad and Grandma, okay?"  
  
"'Kay!" he agrees enthusiastically, running full   
speed to the backyard, all the while yelling,   
"Mommy, there's a baby, just like Cory! There's   
a baby!"  
  
Mulder grins at me as I stand up with Adam again.   
"Guess we don't get the element of surprise."  
  
I start walking to the back of the house. "It's   
probably best that Billy gets a head's up. This   
way he can remember to be nice and not make an   
ass of himself."  
  
We enter the backyard, met by an excited Tara who   
gives Mulder a warm hug.  
  
"Oh, I'm so glad you're okay, Mulder," she admits   
as she steps away. "When Dana told us about your   
case, I knew there was a chance that..." She   
trails off sheepishly, then shakes her head. "But   
here you are, safe and sound with your family."   
Then she turns to me and takes note of the carrier   
at my side. "Oh, and there's baby Adam! May I?"   
she asks, and I give my permission as she reaches   
down and pulls him into her arms.  
  
"Dana," calls a voice that rumbles in the low   
frequency. A voice I know all too well. It's time   
for the Ultimate Test of Billy's Word.  
  
All at once, I'm afraid. By big brother was never   
great at keeping promises. He was always the first   
to tattle on any of us if we did something bad.   
Hell, even if we didn't do something bad, he'd   
find some way to get us in trouble. He and Missy   
used to get in awful fights where they'd each   
dredge up all the dirt they could find on each   
other and go running to Mom or Dad as soon as   
their list was complete. Once Billy went off to   
the Naval Academy, they just stopped talking.   
They couldn't stand being in the same room together,   
which was why she didn't show up for Dad's funeral.   
And why Billy couldn't make it to my side when I   
returned from my abduction. Missy was friendly   
with Tara, though. And knowing what a peacemaker   
Tara is, I can't help but wonder if Missy and Billy   
might have reconciled if she were still alive.  
  
Billy's walking towards me, opening his arms for   
a hug, so I put down the carrier and step into his   
embrace. For a moment we're silent, then he whispers,   
"I'll be good, Dana. I swear."  
  
I pull back, feeling better about the situation.   
Billy can't keep promises, but when he swears   
something, it's as good as gold.  
  
Sure enough, Billy approaches Mulder, and though   
it isn't with open arms, there is a hint of a   
smile on his face.  
  
"Glad to see you made it back, Mulder. Adam's gonna   
need a father, and though you may not be number one   
on my list, you're in the top ten." He holds out   
his right hand, and Mulder takes it, shock evident   
on his face.  
  
"Thanks, Bill. That's all I ask." I knew Mulder   
could be diplomatic. Now if only he'll apply these   
skills to the FBI brass...  
  
^*^  
  
3:30 p.m.  
  
Today has been such a wonderful day. Right now I   
watch Mulder playing with Matty and Alexis, who's   
six. From even our earliest cases I knew that he   
would be a wonderful father. Granted, for the first   
year or so I didn't think he'd be the father of my   
children, but I knew that some woman would end up   
very lucky.  
  
I am so thankful to be that woman.  
  
I can't wait for Adam to grow up. I want to see   
him play a game of catch or one-on-one with his   
dad. Of course, at the same time, I want Adam to   
stay little forever. Five months and he's already   
too old.  
  
Sometimes at night, I imagine what our lives will   
be like five, ten years from now. It sounds so far   
away, but then I think about where I was just five,   
ten years ago, and I realize that it's not that far   
at all. I look at Saundra, and I swear to myself   
that I will not let my little boy end up with a   
manipulative woman like her.  
  
But then I look at Billy, and I realize that I've   
been acting toward Saundra just like Billy used   
to act toward Mulder. Except I keep it to myself.   
Just the same, I vow to try and put a positive   
spin on Saundra, since if she hasn't gone by now,   
she never will. Well, she is a good mother to   
their three kids. I could trust her with Adam in   
the event that neither Mom nor Tara were available.  
  
I hear a familiar cry come from the baby monitor   
that's sitting on the grass next to my chair. I   
stand up to get Adam before Mulder's DaddyRadar   
picks up on the sound and pulls him inside and   
away from the two youngsters who want his attention   
right now. As much as I enjoy not being on call   
every time Adam cries now, I do think Mulder's   
going a bit overboard, and I want to reassert my   
right to a quiet moment with my son.  
  
God knows they're the first quiet times I've had   
in years.  
  
^*^*^  
VI - The Immortal  
[[A voice from beyond brings answers to   
Mulder and Scully]]  
  
June 17, 2001  
10:13 a.m.  
  
He's happy as a clam this morning. Right now he's   
watching SportsCenter's highlights from last   
night's Knicks game -- they beat the Lakers to   
win the Championship in five games. I'm glad I   
stocked up on baby-sized Knick paraphernalia,   
since Adam's been clothed in nothing else for the   
last two weeks. Mulder's assured me that today is   
the last day.  
  
But the crazy part is, he doesn't even realize that   
today is so much more than The Day After the Knicks   
Won the NBA Championship Day. Which really shouldn't   
surprise me, since he never really had to think   
about this day before. Not since Samantha was taken,   
I'm sure.  
  
Today is Father's Day.  
  
And now that I think about it, I barely remembered   
Mother's Day this year. It only occurred to me   
when I was in the grocery store and saw all the   
cards. And I didn't even realize then -- with Adam   
in the cart even! -- that I would get a card this   
year. But I did get one for my mother. When I gave   
it to her, she smiled and just handed me one of   
her own. That's when it really hit me that I was   
a mother. Before it had just been that I had a   
baby now. But Adam can't talk, so he doesn't call   
me 'mom' or anything, and it's easy to forget what   
I am to my baby.  
  
So I think Mulder's suffering from the same problem.   
He knows he's a daddy, but I bet he forgets he's   
a father. I know, same difference. But I do see a   
bit of a difference between mother and mommy, so   
there's got to be a difference between father and   
daddy. Right?  
  
Adam laughs loudly, and I move from the bedroom   
doorway where I've been standing to see what the   
commotion is all about.  
  
Mulder's lying on the floor with a couple pillows   
to elevate his head so he can see the TV comfortably.   
His knees are bent, and Adam's propped in the crook   
of his waist. The Knicks onesie Adam was wearing   
ten minutes ago is in a pile on the floor, and   
he's being gently tickled by his daddy. I grin,   
realizing I've stumbled upon the perfect opportunity.  
  
"Is Daddy tickling you, Adam?" I ask in the happy   
voice that seemed to appear out of nowhere about   
five seconds after I gave birth.  
  
"Not at all," Mulder denies, quickly placing his   
hands under his head. "He's just as thrilled as   
I am about the game last night."  
  
I chuckle as I sit down Indian-style (is that   
term PC?) next to my boys, carefully keeping the   
envelope out of Mulder's sight. "Right. He got   
woken up at a very late hour because of that game.   
He got a snack because of that game."  
  
Mulder pulls one of his hands from behind his head   
and softly ruffles the sparse hair on Adam's head.   
"You know, this kid's got a pretty good life. I'd   
forgotten how babies have their every wish granted   
simply by letting out a good wail. I'm jealous."  
  
"Yeah," I agree, adjusting myself so I'm laying   
down next to him. "And his wishes aren't even that   
specific."  
  
His other hand comes out from behind his head and   
takes mine. "You know, I almost wasted my third   
wish on you," he says.  
  
My mind tries to figure out what he would have   
wished for, but it gets tripped up by one of his   
words. "Wait. 'Wasted'? A wish for me would have   
been wasted?"  
  
I notice that his hand lightly grips Adam's arm   
as he turns his eyes away from the baby and meet   
mine. "Well, sure. If I'm not dreaming right now --   
and I don't think I am -- then I've gotten what I   
would have wished for anyway. So it obviously would   
have been a waste. And I feel much better knowing   
there's one more cynical person wandering around   
the city with a Starbucks cup in her hand."  
  
We laugh, and after a quick tickle Adam joins in,   
too. I don't know how I ever thought that I could   
live a fulfilling life without this.  
  
"Mulder," I say, reaching to my side and fumbling   
around for the card, "you seem to have forgotten   
a very important date."  
  
His 'panic face' breaks through his smile, and I   
can tell he's wracking his brain trying to decide   
what birthday or anniversary he's forgotten. With   
a smile, I hand him the card.  
  
"Don't worry, you weren't supposed to buy me   
anything," I tease.  
  
He takes the envelope and studies it, a frown   
creasing his brow. His curiosity takes over and   
he opens it and pulls out the card. Mulder's eyes   
widen as he reads it, and the inside note brings   
tears to his eyes.  
  
"Thank you, Scully," he whispers, the sincerity   
and emotion in his voice nearly bringing me to   
tears as well. He starts to lean over to kiss me,   
but he stops when he realizes the baby's perilous   
position.  
  
"You're very welcome, Dad," I respond. I complete   
his lean and our lips meet for a brief kiss that   
would have been chaste, had it not been so achingly   
long since we've been alone together. He groans as   
I pull away, and I'm glad to know I'm not the only   
one who feels this way.  
  
"Hey Mom? Can I skip the tie this year? I'd much   
rather send Adam off with his grandma tonight."  
  
I'm on my feet as quickly as possible while avoiding   
a head rush and picking up the phone. Before Mulder   
can even sit up, I've dialed and am anxiously   
listening to each ring.  
  
Mom finally picks up. "Hello?"  
  
"Mom? Can you baby-sit tonight?"  
  
^*^  
  
10:47 p.m.  
  
The *ding* of the elevator doors pulls us from our   
clench; luckily, there are no neighbors waiting to   
witness our wild behavior. As we stumble down the   
hall to the apartment, it occurs to me that we must   
look positively wasted. Right. Breast-feeding does   
not allow for booze, and Mulder has been an absolute   
gentleman by staying in a dry spell of his own.   
Actually, we've been having two dry spells, one   
of which is about to become very, very wet.  
  
I giggle, thinking that I'm already very, very wet.   
And I don't mean the rain outside.  
  
But as we stand at the door, trying to unlock it   
quickly, a feeling of unease comes over me. There's   
an odd smell in the hallway, one that I've smelled   
before, just never here. Mulder notices my sudden   
stillness, and he opens his mouth to say something;   
I cup my hand over it before he utters a word.  
  
I can't figure out what's going on, so I finish   
unlocking the door and slowly push it open. I flip   
on the lights, and I'm relieved to see that nothing   
looks out of the ordinary.  
  
"Whoa!" Mulder cries, grabbing on to my shoulder.   
I look at him, then follow his eyes downward. He's   
just slipped on an envelope that lies just inside   
the door. It must have been pushed underneath.  
  
He reaches down for it. "No," I say, grabbing his   
hand. "Prints," I add, and he nods and walks to   
the kitchen for a pair of gloves. I've found latex   
to be very useful when dealing with baby diarrhea.  
  
He comes back with the gloves on, then bends to   
pick up the envelope. The other side simply says   
'Fox' in bold, capital letters. Virtually useless   
to analyze.  
  
I give Mulder a push toward the living room, and   
we're soon seated on the couch. "Open it," I urge.   
I still feel uneasy about this, but I don't feel   
a sense of danger. We won't blow ourselves to   
kingdom come, but I doubt we'll like what's inside.  
  
Inside is a type-written letter. Courier font,   
regular margins. Again, analysis will probably be   
useless. Together, we begin to read:  
  
  
Fox,  
  
If you've received this letter, then you should   
know that I am dead. I am no longer a threat to you.   
You'll probably never know how or when, but trust me   
just this once: I am gone forever. Well, almost.  
Fox, men like me have simple desires in their   
lives. We want money, power, and immortality. While   
the first two are quite easily achieved, the last   
is rather hard to come by. Many have tried their   
own techniques to gain immortality. Some have   
cryogenically frozen all or part of their bodies.   
Some have made their names well known so that all   
the world will remember them always. But I have   
taken a simpler route. A route taken by billions   
of people over time, many of who do not know that   
they are becoming immortal.  
Procreation.  
Yes, the simple act of passing my genes to   
another generation has sealed my immortality. Of   
course, this act counts for nothing unless it is   
continued. Which is where you come in.  
As much as it will hurt you to admit, you must   
know that Bill Mulder was not your biological father.   
He wasn't Samantha's, either. He was supposed to   
give your mother a child, but we found out too   
late that he was sterile. And by that time he was   
already raising two children who weren't his. We,   
your mother and I, never told him that I fathered   
you, but I suppose he figured it all out in the   
end. That's why you weren't taken as originally   
planned. It was to be Bill's child who would suffer   
the tests. And when Samantha proved to be mine as   
well, then I arranged for her to be taken by   
different people, my people. She faced different   
tests, horrible in their own right, but nowhere   
near as horrible as the other ones. I still mourn   
her death, though I feel no remorse for pulling   
you in the wrong direction for so many years.  
You see, you were my last chance for immortality.   
I had hope for many years, but after you and Diana   
parted company, I began to fear that you would   
become a virtual hermit, living stubbornly in the   
basement with your files, scaring off anyone who   
dared darken your doorstep.  
And then Agent Scully came along.  
I didn't realize until after the X-Files were   
first closed how she could help save my plans. My   
colleagues wanted to abduct her, and I, knowing   
what procedures went on during the abductions,   
saw my perfect opportunity. When they induced super-  
ovulation, I stole one of the vials, much like you   
did at the research facility. I used alien cloaking   
technology and hid the ova in one of her ovaries.   
Don't look so surprised; if they can hide a whole   
spaceship, they can hide, and hold in place, a   
few dozen ova.  
I waited patiently for the time to be right.   
When I was confident in the feelings you both held   
for (and from) each other, I set my trap. I lured   
with the promise of the ultimate cure. I'm sure   
you quickly discovered that the disk she ended up   
with was blank. I must apologize for the deception,   
but it was essential to my plan. She may have told   
you about how I drugged her, how she woke up in a   
strange bed in her pajamas, not knowing how she   
got into them. I did that, but only so she would   
be comfortable.  
There is, in fact, a disk that can control the   
implant that sits just under her skin. This implant,   
which you believe simply put her cancer into   
remission, actually regulates many of her systems.   
You may have noticed that she heals remarkably   
fast form serious wounds. She doesn't catch colds   
or the flu easily at all. And, when instructed by   
my disk, the implant removed the cloak from the   
ova that still reside in her. She wouldn't notice   
any difference, of course, because the implant   
also regulates her menstrual cycle.  
During that trip, I also planted an idea into   
her subconscious. I told her she wouldn't allow   
herself to love you. If you're receiving this   
letter, then obviously she does now.  
This letter was to be delivered to you the   
first Father's Day after my death, unless otherwise   
directed. I wasn't sure if I would live to see my   
grandchild, and obviously I haven't. Had I lived,   
I'd have delivered this message to you in person.   
Thank you, Fox, for helping me achieve immortality.   
Thank your lovely partner for me as well. Or is she   
your wife now? Congratulations to you both, and   
Happy Father's Day.  
  
CGBS  
  
  
I stare at the paper, my jaw dropped in shock.   
I'd always suspected that that evil old man had   
done something to me that day, but I never thought   
that this was on his agenda.  
  
I try to hate him for what he did, but it's damn   
near impossible. I can hate him for doing it   
without my knowledge, but that's about it. I   
almost feel grateful to the son of a bitch.  
  
"Scully," Mulder whispers, "what have we done?"   
He drops the letter and reaches over to his desk   
to pick up a framed picture of Adam taken just   
days after birth.  
  
I know he wants to hear harsh words come from my   
mouth; he hopes that I'm appalled by this invasion   
to my body and our lives. But I'm going to   
disappoint him.  
  
"Well, we may not have known it, but we created   
a human being one night when we finally showed   
each other how much we love one another. Despite   
the selfish desire for immortality that provided   
the means, the fact remains that Adam's only here   
because of love. Doesn't that count for something?   
I mean, it's not like he took a sample from you   
and one from me and mixed them together in a   
Petrie dish. We did have a choice in the matter.   
  
"And no matter what pop psych crap he may have   
fed me, it wasn't his words that told me it was   
time. It was the whole Daniel incident. And what   
Colleen told me. To be honest, I hadn't even   
remembered that he'd said that to me until just   
now. As much as I want to hate him for it, I'm   
finding it very hard to do so."  
  
Still clutching the picture, Mulder falls against   
the back of the couch. "I know, Scully. I feel   
the same way. Maybe, if he had told us about what   
he'd done before we conceived, then maybe I could   
hate him. Because then I'd think about it every   
time we'd want to make love, and I'm sure we'd   
have arguments about whether to try and have a   
baby, or deny that man his immortality. But now...  
now it's already happened. I wish I didn't know,   
but it is a bit reassuring to know how it happened."  
  
"And of course," I add, "we can't be absolutely   
sure that this is the gospel truth. He's lied   
before. Maybe he's not even really dead and he's   
just messing with us one more time."  
  
Mulder is quiet as he absorbs that idea. I get   
the feeling that this letter won't be spoken of   
ever again, and eventually he'll go back to   
believing that Adam was a miracle that came about   
completely unaided. And I may make a conscious   
decision to do the same.  
  
But subconsciously, I'll always know different.   
And I find myself hoping that what the letter   
says is the gospel truth. Because that means I   
still have ova, and with ova comes the chance for   
more children.  
  
Old men with money and power aren't the only ones   
who entertain the idea of immortality.  
  
^*^*^  
VII - Domestication  
[[It's time for the inevitable: marriage and a   
townhouse]]  
  
August 4, 2001  
8:56 p.m.  
  
Christ, this man's going to be the death of me.  
  
I guess I knew that the first time I dragged my   
ass after his soon-to-be-very-sorry ass when he   
ditched me. When was that again? Oh yeah, Idaho.   
Second case. Go figure.  
  
To be fair, this time he hasn't caused my heart   
to stop because of some precarious position he's   
gotten us into. Oh no, this is much more civilized.   
We've finally been able to leave Adam with Mom   
every other Saturday while we go out and act like   
adults. Then we come home and act like adults who   
are very much in love and attracted to each other.   
After more than a year of missing him in an   
intimate way, it's nice to have a routine to   
stick to.  
  
But tonight...  
  
Mom had spent the day with a friend of hers in   
McLean, so she offered to pick Adam up on her way   
home so we wouldn't have to drive all the way up   
to Baltimore. That was fine with us. We figured   
we could grab an earlier dinner and maybe even   
catch a movie or something.  
  
Wrong. Tonight we didn't even make it out the   
front door. I didn't even make it into my dress.   
I think the heat got to us; the temperature peaked   
at 107 in the shade. He'd been walking around the   
place bare-chested all day long, with old shorts   
that were down to their last, strategically-placed   
threads. I suppose I didn't help much, going bra-  
less with a tight tank and equally tight spandex   
shorts. So I didn't do much laundry this week. So   
sue me.  
  
But, in all honesty, it's not even this extreme   
physical exertion in extreme heat that's stopped   
my heart tonight. It came close, but not quite.  
  
No, my heart stopped when I laid eyes on the rock   
nestled in velvet that he's holding out to me.  
  
"Scully?" His voice has a tinge of worry in it,   
and I realize that I haven't responded yet.  
  
"Mulder...where's all this coming from? I mean,   
it's out of nowhere, you know?"  
  
He just shrugs. "It just seems like the right   
time. I'm working full-time again, and I know you   
want to cut back your hours some. It just makes   
sense. But if you have a problem..."  
  
Once again, that worry works its way into his   
voice, and I hold my hand up to stop it. "I don't   
have a problem. Yes, Mulder, I will marry you.   
That was never a question in my mind. But like I   
said, it just seemed to come from left field."  
  
"Well, at least you're surprised," he quips,   
pulling me close in for a kiss to seal our deal.  
  
We're getting married. Jesus.  
  
^*^*^  
  
August 5, 2001  
11:08 a.m.  
  
Mulder screeches the car to a halt along the curb   
outside Mom's house. I'm surprised how excited he   
is to see her this morning. He's always glad to   
pick up Adam after a night of releasing all of   
our tensions, but today is different. Today, Adam   
is one step closer to not being a bastard child   
anymore.  
  
Yes, I realize that since he was born to an unwed   
mother, he's technically illegitimate, but he'll   
never have to know. I doubt we'll even remember   
the date of our anniversary, never mind how many   
years it's been.  
  
I step calmly out of the car, trying not to notice   
how he's already *skipping* to the front door.   
Still calm, I walk behind him up the front steps.   
He's already inside, calling for Mom and Adam. I   
hear the baby respond, letting out a shriek to   
raise the dead.  
  
"Morning, Dana," Mom says from behind me, where   
she's just come out of the bathroom.  
  
"Hi, Mom," I respond. I give her a hug, and we   
walk arm-in-arm into the kitchen, where Mulder's   
found his son and is presently wiping him clean   
of his breakfast.  
  
"Hello, Fox. Did you sleep well?" She's looking   
at the table as she says this, but I can still   
see the smirk on her face. I gently elbow her in   
the ribs.  
  
Mulder just smiles even wider and picks up Adam.   
"Like a baby, Ma- Mom."  
  
I smile at his correction. He's always called my   
mother by her first name, but I guess now he   
figures he's earned the right to call her Mom.   
He's a smart man, but he never realized that he's   
always had that right.  
  
Mom also notes the change, and I can see the wheels   
turning in her head. I keep my mouth shut though;   
Mulder insisted on breaking the news himself.   
Slipping my arm from Mom's, I step over to him,   
holding my hands out to receive my son. Adam smiles   
happily, he's a morning person, just like I was   
as a kid. I hope this trait carries through high   
school, 'cause I saw Missy and Charlie, and I do   
not need grumps like them at five-thirty in the   
morning. Mulder's bad enough.  
  
Wait, did I say high school? I'm sorry, I'm mistaken.   
My baby boy's never growing up. Ever. So there.  
  
"So, Mom," Mulder says oh-so-casually. "What are   
you doing next Saturday?"  
  
The gears in her head start cranking at twice the   
speed. "Saturday? The eleventh?" Mulder just nods.   
"I don't think I have plans. Why, what's up?"  
  
"Oh, not much." He steps behind me, placing one   
arm around my waist, and rubbing Adam's head with   
his free hand. "We were just thinking that you'd   
like to come with us while we do some chores. You   
know, odds and ends. Some clothes shopping, pick   
up a realtor's guide, get married, that sort of   
thing."  
  
I successfully keep my laughter in as Mom's eyes   
narrow then widen as she realizes the words that   
were hidden in plain "sight" in Mulder's little   
diatribe.  
  
"What?!" she screeches. "You better be serious,   
Fox Mulder, or I have half a mind to..."  
  
He starts to laugh, and I finally let my own   
laughter loose. Mom just stares at us, and I think   
that she really thinks we're just kidding around.  
  
"He's serious, Mom," I reassure her. "We figured   
it's time to get ourselves settled, you know? We're   
also going to start looking for a bigger apartment   
or a townhouse or something, and I..." I pause,   
not sure if this is the right time to say this.  
  
Ever since Ronnie was assigned to the X-Files,   
I've entertained the notion that she could take   
my place once Mulder was back. Now he's been back   
for two-and-a-half months, and he's been doing   
fieldwork full-time for the last month. I've   
continued going in for my normal full-time desk   
job, but mostly to act as a buffer while Mulder   
got used to the idea of actually working with   
someone who wasn't me. And now, he's said that   
he's okay with me cutting back my hours, so I   
think I see the perfect opportunity for me to   
bow out.  
  
I want to be home with my son, it's as simple as   
that.  
  
Mom and Mulder are staring at me, waiting for me   
to finish my sentence. I turn a bit so I can look   
into Mulder's eyes. "I think it's time for me to   
leave the Bureau."  
  
Mom gasps, but doesn't argue. I know she's been   
wanting me to be a stay-at-home mother ever since   
Adam was born, but she also knew that without   
Mulder, I had to earn income somehow.  
  
But it's Mulder's reaction that really surprises   
me. I expect him to put up a fight, claiming that   
he can't work without me, beg me to at least work   
part-time. But instead, he just nods.  
  
"I figured that's what you were leaning towards,"   
he admits. "I don't see any reasons for you to   
stay anymore. We know about Samantha, the Project   
is defunct now that CGB Spender's dead..."  
  
"We think," I amend. "We hope."  
  
"Yes we do. Anyway, Adam should have his mother   
with him all the time. Not that his grandmother   
is an inefficient babysitter," he corrects with   
a smile, looking at Mom.  
  
She just nods. "It's okay, Fox. I'd much rather   
baby-sit once every two weeks, if that's all right   
with you."  
  
I smile and place a kiss on Adam's soft, blonde   
hair. "That's wonderful."  
  
^*^*^  
  
August 11, 2001  
1:24 p.m.  
  
There are five of us sitting outside the magistrate's   
office this afternoon. One is an eight-month-old   
baby who's quietly snoozing in his carrier. Mom   
and Skinner are seated across the hall, chatting   
softly about God knows what. Probably something   
to do with the little ceremony we're about to go   
through.  
  
Mulder is sitting next to me, on the other side   
of the baby. He's not saying anything, just looking   
down at his hands, which are folded in his lap.   
Stupid self-doubt.  
  
"Mulder," I whisper, careful not to wake the baby.   
"What's wrong?"  
  
He looks up, and his face shows confusion.   
"Nothing's wrong. Why?"  
  
"Well, you looked..." I make a gesture with my   
hand, unsure of how to describe his outward   
appearance. "You looked like something was wrong."  
  
Mulder shakes his head, a smile forming on his   
lips. "Nope. Sorry if you got the wrong impression.   
I am quite content, and I will be even more content   
when we leave this building."  
  
I'm about to second his feelings when the door to   
our left opens, and an elderly woman steps out.   
"Fox Mulder and Dana Scully?"  
  
We stand at our names, and she motions for us to   
follow her into the office. Without my asking, Mom   
grabs the carrier and joins us. She and Skinner   
are our witnesses. Mulder was a bit wary about   
asking Skinner to play the role, but we needed   
two and there was no way we could split the Gunmen.   
So Skinner was our only option. Not that we told   
him that.  
  
Behind the desk sits a kind-looking middle-aged   
man; the plaque on the desktop identifies him as   
Mr. James Newman. "Good afternoon, Dana, Fox." He   
stands as he says this and holds out his right hand.  
  
"Good afternoon," I return, shaking his hand.   
Mulder does the same, and doesn't bother correcting   
Mr. Newman about his name.  
  
"So, you two wan to be married, am I correct?" We   
nod our heads, and he looks over at the other   
three people in the room. "And these are your   
witnesses?"  
  
I nod again, then introduce them. "This is my   
mother, Maggie Scully, a good friend of ours,   
Walter Skinner, and, um..." I find myself pausing   
in embarrassment. Mr. Newman will certainly be   
wondering why we didn't get married before the   
baby was born, but I'm not in the mood to explain   
a thing.  
  
"Our son, Adam," Mulder finishes, without a hint   
of embarrassment, only pride. To his credit, Mr.   
Newman doesn't even raise an eyebrow.  
  
"Wonderful. Well, let's get this underway, shall   
we?"  
  
^*^*^  
  
August 17, 2001  
2:22 p.m.  
  
Ronnie sighs as she picks up my nameplate from   
the desk. "You know, Dana, it's going to be really   
boring around here with you gone. I was just   
getting used to hearing you two argue about these   
cases. There's no way I can recreate that feeling   
with him."  
  
I grin. "Good. That's what made me fall in love   
with him, and I don't need you falling in love   
with my husband!" We laugh together, carefully   
packing the contents of my desk into the large   
box on the chair.  
  
Today is my last day. It's kind of sad; I never   
could imagine being happy without the X-Files or   
the Bureau. But now, I just look at my son and I   
know that I'm doing the right thing.  
  
"Speaking of your husband," Ronnie says, placing   
extra emphasis on the word 'husband,' "where is he?"  
  
"He's up with Skinner. Something about some earned   
vacation time." I waggle my eyebrows happily.   
Mulder has insisted that we go on a honeymoon, so   
he's trying to work out a possible schedule. "But,"   
I add, glancing at my watch, "he better be done   
soon. We've got an appointment with our realtor   
in two hours."  
  
"Ooo. Where're you looking?" Ronnie stops packing   
and perches on the corner of the desk.  
  
"There's a development of townhouses in Ellicott   
City that we're interested in. It's really close   
to my mother, which is great for babysitting   
purposes. I always feel guilty when she drives   
all the way down from Catonsville."  
  
When I suggested the idea of moving up closer to   
Baltimore, Mulder wasn't completely thrilled at   
first. He doesn't relish the thought of commuting   
down I-95 in rush hour traffic, but he's beginning   
to see the sense in it. I'm hoping that this place   
we're looking at will get his approval; I saw it   
years ago when Mom and I were doing some lazy   
driving around, and even then I thought that I   
might like to move there if I were to somehow ever   
have a family. Luckily, there are a few townhouses   
for sale right now.  
  
The door behind me opens. I turn to see Mulder   
stride into the office, and the look on his face...  
oh dear. He's got something up his sleeve, that's   
for sure. I just pray he hasn't booked airline   
tickets without my input.  
  
"Hey!" he greets us. Mulder looks at me and asks,   
"Ready to get going?"  
  
"Just a few more minutes," I respond, turning back   
to my packing. The only things that are left to   
pack are the various knickknacks in my desk. The   
last few days I moved all of my equipment out of   
the office, stuff that neither Mulder nor Ronnie   
will have much use for without me there to work   
it for them.  
  
"I'm gonna go get a soda," Ronnie says suddenly.   
She leaves the room, and I realize she's giving   
us some privacy.   
  
The meaning of this moment abruptly hits me: I   
will never work with Mulder again. I won't be   
seeing him 24/7. I won't have to watch another   
slide show, or dispute one of his theories.  
  
Tears well up in my eyes, and I reach for him. He   
embraces me while I think of all the times I   
wanted to do this when we were just partners. Now   
that I'm allowed to do this whenever I want, we're   
no longer partners in work. Sure, we'll always be   
partners in life, but never again Mulder and Scully.   
Just Mr. and Mrs. Mulder. Just Mom and Dad. Don't   
get me wrong, those are great names to be known   
by, but...  
  
I feel his lips press against my cheek, then my   
earlobe. "You'll always be Scully to me," he   
whispers in my ear. I smile; he can still read   
my mind.  
  
"Thank you, Mulder," I reply. I take in a deep   
breath and step back  
  
"No, Scully, thank you. I may still be the FBI's   
Most Unwanted, but I'll take that any day, as   
long as I'm Dana Scully's Most Desperately Wanted."  
  
A breath of laughter escapes me, and I hear myself   
mumble, "That's not even a top ten list. There's   
just one spot, and it's all yours."  
  
He grins. "I know," he says arrogantly.  
  
I shake my head at his cockiness, but I know he   
knows. I look one last time at my desk and see   
that everything's been placed in the box. With a   
sigh, I pick up said box and motion to the door.   
"Come on, Mr. Mulder. Townhouses await."  
  
"I'm right behind you, Mrs. Mulder."  
  
^*^*^  
  
September 28, 2001  
12:32 p.m.  
  
"Okay, Dana, if you would just sign this line   
here..."  
  
I follow Keri's instructions as she points to   
several places for me to sign. I've gotten pretty   
good at my new signature in the past month. Dana   
K. Mulder. The first time I tried it just felt so   
weird that I called my mother and asked how she   
got used to signing 'Margaret E. Scully' instead   
of 'Margaret E. Perry'. We both laughed as she   
admitted to spending a whole hour just writing   
her signature over and over on blank pieces of   
paper. That night, I did the same, and now I don't   
even think about it anymore.  
  
"Great!" says Keri Leigh as I sign the last line.   
"Everything's done. Congratulations Mulders, you   
just bought yourself a house!"  
  
I sit back and sign in victory. The past month   
I've been hearing tales of closings gone horribly   
wrong, and for the past week I've been a nervous   
wreck. Mulder's been very understanding and   
reassured me that nothing would go wrong, but it   
didn't really help much. Even Adam's noticed my   
change in disposition; he's crawling now, and I   
often find him crawling away from me the minute   
Mulder gets home. I try not to take offense, but...  
  
But that's water under the bridge. The closing   
has gone perfectly, and we now own 291A West   
Chestnut Street in Ellicott City, Maryland. And   
thanks to an unexpected inheritance Mulder got   
from an aunt he hadn't see or heard from in at   
least twenty years, we only have a five-year   
mortgage.  
  
It took me three days to convince Mulder that the   
house was perfect. Three bedrooms, 1.5 bathrooms,   
living room, kitchen, and dining room. Small, yes,   
but it's bigger than our one bedroom apartment.   
We'll make the extra bedroom into a study/guestroom.   
And one small part of me, the part that still   
believes in fairy tale endings, thinks that maybe   
one day we'll really need that third bedroom.  
  
But for now, everything's perfect.  
  
^*^*^  
VIII - Honeymoon on the AD  
[[A call from Hollywood means only one thing:   
Premiere time, baby!]]  
  
November 10, 2001  
9:30 a.m.  
  
"Come on, Adam, big step...Good job! Okay, another   
one...Yea!" With me cheering him on, Adam makes   
his way from the sofa to the recliner across the   
room. He's still tightly holding on to my hands,   
but his steps are becoming more confident each   
day. It wouldn't surprise me if he's walking by   
his birthday.  
  
Mulder starts clapping as he enters the room and   
sees what all the commotion is about. "As proud   
as I am of him," he says slowly, "are you sure we   
want him toddling around here so soon? I mean, we   
can barely catch him when he crawls!"  
  
I guide Adam over to his father. "Yes," I agree,   
just as slowly. "But, Billy and Tara are coming   
out here for Christmas this year. And Matty didn't   
learn to walk until he was nearly a year-and-a-  
half."  
  
"Da Da Da," Adam warbles as he reaches Mulder's   
legs. In response, Mulder bends down to pick him   
up.  
  
"Well, I guess if Adam can beat Matty to that   
milestone, then I guess I can't complain."  
  
I chuckle at the stuffy pride in Mulder's voice.   
Although Billy's made it a point to try and get   
to know Mulder better, he still holds some obvious   
resentment towards my husband. And when Billy was   
last here for a visit, he made a few comments about   
how Adam was a bit behind Matty in the milestone   
department. Tara assured me later that Billy was   
completely wrong and that Adam was actually ahead   
of schedule, but we decided to let my big brother   
think whatever he wanted to on that subject.  
  
So Mulder relishes everything that Adam does,   
especially when it happens earlier than it did   
for Matty.  
  
He kisses Adam's still-blonde hair, then gently   
places him on the floor. "You packed yet?" he asks   
me, his eyes giving away his excitement.  
  
"No, not completely. I do have other things to do   
with my time," I chide, poking him in the chest.   
He catches my hand and pulls it to his lips. He's   
about to kiss my palm when our moment is interrupted   
by a thunk and a wail.  
  
I spin around, pulling back my hand, to see Adam   
sitting up about a step from the couch. I begin   
walking over to him to calm him down, when I   
realize what must have happened.  
  
"Mulder, he was trying to do it all by himself!"   
I say in amazement. I only began helping him walk   
five days ago. This kid is amazing.  
  
"Does Mom know?" he asks, disappearing into the   
kitchen. "'Cause if she doesn't, she's in for one   
helluva surprise!"  
  
"I haven't spoken to her all week," I admit. Adam   
stops crying and crawls into my lap, eager for   
comfort. "She's doing this fundraiser at church   
tomorrow, and she's really preoccupied."  
  
He comes back into the living room with a glass   
of orange juice in his hand. "Well, maybe she   
shouldn't baby-sit then. I mean..."  
  
I shake my head. "No, she'll be fine with Adam.   
The fundraiser is a children's concert. And she's   
already told the other members of the group that   
she'd be babysitting. All she has to do tomorrow   
is show up." I realize we've strayed a bit from   
the original line of discussion. "What about you,   
have you packed?"  
  
He nods proudly as he flops down on the couch,   
placing his legs on either side of me. "Yep. I   
did it yesterday while you were in the office."  
  
A month after I left my job, I realized that even   
with Adam keeping me busy, I missed doing real work   
terribly. I called the Baltimore Field Office and   
asked them if they wanted any help with autopsies   
or other forensic work that I could do. Now I go   
into the city once every two weeks and they usually   
find something for me to do. It feels good to keep   
up with Bureau happenings. Mulder never figured out   
how much I enjoy good gossip, so he doesn't pay   
attention for me; working in Baltimore lets me   
keep in touch with the sixteen-year-old in me.  
  
"Actually, I just need to pick up my tux. The   
tailor said it should be done by noon today, so   
we can just pick up on our way to BWI."  
  
The image of Mulder in a tux comes to the front   
of my mind, and I'm momentarily distracted, missing   
everything he says. I'm sure it's something I agree   
with, so I just nod.  
  
Adam crawls out of my lap and latches on to   
Mulder's leg. His fists curled around the denim   
of his father's blue jeans, he pulls himself to   
a standing position much to his delight. Bravely,   
he lets go with hand, reaching out towards Mulder,   
and saying in his BabyTalk, "Da Da Da."  
  
With a grin, Mulder heaves Adam into his lap.   
"It's like living with that Volkswagen commercial."   
I laugh with him, and Adam joins in.  
  
^*^*^  
  
4:39 p.m.  
  
I sigh and roll my neck to relieve the cramps that   
have settled in. The view of clouds outside my   
window catches my eye; it's been a long time since   
I've flown anywhere.  
  
There's a break in the clouds, and I can see huge   
patches of green, varying shades, of course. I can   
make out large barns and silos. Must be the Midwest.  
  
A flight attendant is making his way down our   
aisle, offering blankets and pillows for the third   
time since take-off. First class can get really   
annoying. Besides, I already have the most   
comfortable pillow I could ever ask for: Mulder.   
Of course, right now Mulder's using my shoulder   
as his pillow.  
  
I glance across the aisle to Skinner, who's   
engrossed in an issue of "Producer's Monthly". I   
roll my eyes; he's really gone over the edge about   
the whole Associate Producer bit. Hopefully, this   
movie won't do so hot, and our esteemed AD will   
realize he's much better suited for law enforcement.  
  
Yes, the movie. Wayne Federman called about three   
months ago announcing the official release date,   
as well as inviting us to the premiere that would   
occur earlier in the week. Mulder and I figured   
that would be the best time for our delayed honey-  
moon, so we accepted.  
  
The premiere is tomorrow night, and we're staying   
tonight and tomorrow in a hotel that Wayne has   
generously paid for. Separate rooms, though.   
Apparently Skinner failed to mention that we're   
married now. Oh well. Not my money. But I have   
big plans for that bubble bath this time.  
  
^*^*^  
  
November 11, 2001  
5:20 p.m.  
  
"Wow."  
  
I look up from trying to fasten my bracelet to   
see the stunned and pleased gape of my husband.   
I smile in return, and I lower my gaze to take   
in his outfit for the evening. Delectable as   
always.  
  
"You're pretty 'wow' yourself," I tell him sincerely.   
He picks up his jaw and grins, then walks towards   
me and takes the bracelet in his hand.  
  
"Where'd you get this?" he asks in his 'I'm up to   
something' voice.  
  
"It was a graduation present after med school," is   
what I say. I don't mention that it's from Daniel.   
When I left Daniel, I almost threw it out, but for   
some reason I kept it. I found it last year when I   
cleaned out my apartment; I can wear it now that   
there are no emotions attached to it anymore, now   
that's it's just a pretty bracelet.  
  
"Hmm." He steps away from me, taking the bracelet.   
I'm about to protest, but I can tell that if I'm   
good, I'll get something even better. Something   
that does have feelings with it.  
  
"Well, since we are here on our honeymoon, and   
since I never got you a suitable wedding present,"   
I bite my lip to refrain from saying anything, "I   
thought it would be appropriate if I got you a   
little something for tonight."  
  
He pulls a long jewelry box from the inner pocket   
of his tux jacket and hands it to me. It's wrapped   
in silver paper with gold ribbon, but I really   
don't take time to admire the wrapping job. With   
the excitement of a six-year-old at Christmas, I   
tear it open and lift off the top.  
  
Inside lie two chains of gold. One is a necklace,   
the other a bracelet. They're obviously a set, and   
they each hold a single stone in their centers.   
It's a light blue, and I look at Mulder questioningly   
and ask, "Turquoise?"  
  
He nods. "That's December's birthstone. I figured   
tonight would be a good night for a subtle reminder,   
since Skinner asked us..." He trails off, throwing   
his hands up in annoyance.  
  
Skinner came to our room (well, technically my   
room) earlier today and asked us if we wouldn't   
mind not 'acting married' tonight. Apparently   
there's a part that Skinner just found out about,   
and our being married might cause his friend a   
great deal of embarrassment. We agreed, reluctantly,   
though God knows I'm going to have a hard time   
keeping my hands off Mulder tonight.  
  
"They're beautiful, Mulder. Thank you," I say,   
craning my neck back and rising on my toes to   
kiss him. I wish I'd put my shoes on.  
  
He pulls back much too soon and takes the box from   
my hand. "Need help with the necklace?"  
  
I turn around and look in the mirror. I'm wearing   
a high-necked dress, and I think even my cross   
might be a bit much for the outfit. "Actually,"   
I say, hating to disappoint him, "I think I'll   
forego the necklace tonight." His eyes give away   
his regret, and I hurry to make it go away. "But,"   
I add in my sexy voice I know will get his attention,   
"maybe it's all I'll wear the rest of our...  
honeymoon."  
  
I see him gulp and I grin. No more disappointment;   
all I can see in his stormy-hazel eyes is desire.   
A little voice deep in my brain reminds me that   
we're supposed to keep our hands *off* each other   
tonight, but I do my best to ignore it.  
  
A pounding on the door brings us out of our bubble.   
Mulder leaves the bathroom to go answer it, and I   
use the few extra seconds to make sure my hair is   
straight and my lipstick is on just my lips. I   
then follow Mulder's footsteps, heading to the   
safe that the hotel provides with each room.  
  
"Good evening, Scully," says Skinner in a slightly   
choked voice that I'm going to take as a compliment.  
  
"Hello, Skinner." Despite the level of closeness   
we developed last year as we searched for Mulder,   
I've never felt comfortable addressing him by his   
first name. Apparently the feeling is mutual.  
  
"Mulder, have you used the safe yet?" I ask as I   
gather the few expensive items that I plan to tuck   
away. He answers negatively, so I quickly think   
of a six-digit number to use as my personal code.   
Easy: 100212. I carefully place the necklace and   
my old bracelet inside, keep Mulder's in my hand   
so he can help me with it on the way to the theater.   
With great remorse I slip off my rings; I haven't   
taken them off once since they went on. I remind   
Mulder to do the same, and I can see the pain in   
his eyes as he hands his wedding ring to me. I   
doubt his has come off, either.  
  
With a sigh I lock everything up, then sit on the   
edge of the bed to put on my shoes. Task completed,   
and with Skinner nervously looking at his watch,   
I take Mulder's offered arm (much to Skinner's   
annoyance) and we head out the door.  
  
Hollywood, here we come.  
  
^*^*^  
  
1:15 a.m.  
  
It's been a very long time since I was up this   
late without even a nap somewhere along the way.   
But I've been having too much fun to think about   
the time.  
  
Mulder's asking our driver a question, and from   
the pleased look on his face as he settles back   
next to me, I'm guessing he got the answer he was   
looking for.  
  
"What's up?"  
  
He shook his head. "Nothing, really. I just asked   
Jerome up there if he wouldn't mind waiting for us   
to gather our things so he can take us to the B&B   
tonight."  
  
"But, we don't start renting it until tomorrow,"   
I point out. Before he can say anything, though,   
I realize what he's done. "You called them, didn't   
you?"  
  
"After I left the movie," he nods. "They'll let   
us take it tonight, but we have to pay an extra   
fee to cover the lateness of their notification."  
  
I bite my lip, concerned as always about matters   
of money. Mulder's still grinning, though, so it   
can't be all bad...  
  
"Luckily," he says, reaching into his tux jacket,   
"we don't have to pay..." He pulls out the Bureau   
card, and I know my face lights up with the smile   
that spreads over my face.  
  
"Thank you, AD Skinner!" I giggle, and I find myself   
wishing we hadn't paid for the rest of the week   
already. Oh well. Our one night on the Bureau won't   
be wasted, that's for sure!  
  
^*^*^  
  
4 out of 5 doctors say expressing your enjoyment of a fanfic   
to its author increases your life expectancy 23-23.8 years.   
The other doctor was killed by Cancerman before we could ask   
him.  
  
jeri, president, xpab: x-philes against bees  
Join by writing to: kill_em_all@thexfiles.com OR  
Visit the xpab site:  
http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/xpab.html  
  
And while you're there...  
  
Visit Jeri's Basement:  
http://www.geocities.com/jeris_basement/index.html  
  



End file.
